One Step Closer
by John Is Sherlocked
Summary: '"How..." I feel a hoarse whisper leave my lips. I didn't notice it, it seems as though I am crying, tears of happiness and frustration all at once.'


**A/N: **Hello! I know there's a bunch of Reichenbach reunions. But I hope you guys enjoy my version.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, they all go to their respectable owners.

**One Step Closer**

_**John/Sherlock**_

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><p>I couldn't forget. That moment, that pinnacle moment, the rushing flow of a perfect moment was a long running moment... It was a collection of moments made by him. Not a name... I cannot speak of a name when I speak of him. It's just him. He was everything... He was the persistence and importance of my existence. When he was here... No he's still here; he will never leave me... He never will... When he was <em>tangibly<em> here; he was my everything, he was the faint smell of chemicals and sweat in the morning... The smell I miss so much... He still is everything, he's the sunlight peaking through my window in the morning; he's the smile of a person I see walking down the street. He's still everything to me; I think back on it... How they could all hate him then just forget so easily... They ask if I'm okay, I'm not. He's always there, always in my mind. I wish I could forget him, the thing is... I can't, I cannot remember how it was without him. He's changed my life so much. He may have been annoying and arrogant at times... But he was Sherlock..._My Sherlock_. Nobody could take him from me, and I from him... Until he became everything that I couldn't be...He left me; he went somewhere I couldn't go. His only friend... He left, and this is an adventure I can't go on with him...

I look at his chair...The empty, cold, undisturbed chair. The chair nobody has sat in. I have occasionally sat in it when a guest visited. I couldn't let anyone else sit in his chair. Sometimes at night I can hear him breathe in my bedroom doorway, but I know it's not him so I decide not to look; it would be much more disappointing to look and not see that beautiful man. He was beautiful, very beautiful and anyone would agree. When he made the face, the face I would criticize him about. The one where you could tell he knew what was happening... His eyes, his eyes were also so breathtaking. They could read you, more than you could read yourself. You would stand dumbstruck but amazed. He was beautiful in his own way, nobody wanted to see it. Nobody except me... His cheekbones were rather well known. They were what happened to attract everyone's attention. They caught mine on more than just a few occasions.

I watched. I watched as he took his final step, the one that lead him off a skyscraper of lies. I knew he was real...I believed in him... I know he was always the light in a dark situation. He couldn't give out lies... They didn't believe him because they do not understand how he could know all of the information he has learned. The problem is that they are all so stupid. They do not learn and think as he does. They do not understand... What is it their business anyways! They never think do they? I miss him... I miss him more than words can imagine. I sit here every day. I think of him, think of our memories. I wish he knew how much he has touched my life... How much he has changed my view of the world. He changed everything... He was the constant in my equation...everything else was a variable...

I sat very deep in thought, maybe I should stop. Stop thinking, stop everything... Everyone thought I was going crazy, I was even starting to believe it...but I can't just give up on him. Everyone looks on me with pity. I hate it, I hate when they look at me. They look at me like I wasted my heart on nothing. My heart isn't wasted, nor has it been drained on nothing. He was something...always something. Always _everything..._

Sometimes I wonder if he'd be angry with me being so attached to his spirit. He probably would be... _Sentiment... _Funny isn't it? How I could go from knowing nothing about him one day... Then we were best friends... Now he's gone... _Gone._.. All because of stupid mistakes... Stupid mistakes that should have never been made... Why would this happen? I should have never come here in the first place; but the time with him was the best time I've had of my life. I loved protecting him, keeping him sane... I know that's why he needed me; I never told him because, well...he's too proud to admit he needs somebody sometimes. I needed him too...

I had a dream last night. It was the first dream I've had in three years. He was in it. _Him._.. I was sleeping in my dream, when I felt movement on my other side. It was _him..._ He lay next to me, his long limbs stretching out and he wrapped his arms around I. He was cold and very much thinner than before... I remember that, the dream... It was so vivid; I could remember the smell of him...but not the look in his eyes. I could remember the feeling of his fingers entwined with mine but not the feeling of his breath on my neck. I fell asleep to the repeating motion of him stroking my hair. That was my dream, it wasn't much but it was much more to me than I would expect even of myself. It was over as fast as it had started. I woke up, he wasn't there...but I could feel his scent dance across my nose. Almost teasingly, I imagine it's just the placebo effect though. My brain hallucinating what it wants; it reminds me of Baskerville... Of him, and when I told him to stop doing the thing with his collar... The truth is that I loved it. I couldn't let him think that though. It's my job to ground him, even if he didn't notice... It's like he employed me for that.

I'm alone... More than ever, I don't talk to anybody much anymore. Sometimes Mycroft will ask how I am, but I never wish to speak to him. It's like I died, not him but me. He's still as present as ever... But me, I'm gone... I'm dead, I will never come back. He makes my darkest thoughts bright but yet my brightest thoughts dark. That's why I won't forget him. He's there, he _is_ my thoughts. I want him to leave me alone, so I can grasp my sanity once again; but I never want to leave him...

I love him... _Love him. _That man, the perfect man who nobody understood but me. Okay, I didn't always understand him, but I learned to after awhile. He let me in. I gladly followed, I followed him everywhere. Not just physically... But mentally, I followed him mentally. He would point a simple fact out to me, and I would understand. He was always the leader. Even if it wasn't his job to be. He just always was...

I've been sitting here for awhile thinking. I want to have a cup of tea, but there is something resting on a chair in the kitchen that is still messy... I haven't bothered to clean, which is obvious... I have had more important things to do... Or at least that's what I tell everyone else... There is something on a chair, something heavy, dark and large that catches my attention. It's a coat... Mrs. Hudson must have put it there. I wouldn't touch it... That's when I see a long piece of blue cloth. It's a scarf, but that's not where it was left. _She must have tried to clean but I woke too early so she must have left. _I decide I do not wish to have tea anymore. I want to sleep, so I change into pyjamas and lay myself down to sleep on my bed. That's when I feel it again, a person. I know I'm awake so I turn. I see dark curls and piercing eyes; cheekbones that seem to elongate a thin and pale face. I put my hand out and graze my fingertips against these features. His eyelids close contently in response to my fingers. He is cold but content with his body temperature. My fingers trace down his neck and I am surprised. He is here, the one I wanted so badly...is here.

"How..." I feel a hoarse whisper leave my lips. I didn't notice it, it seems as though I am crying, tears of happiness and frustration all at once. He is as beautiful as I remember. I've been waiting for something, but I never knew it was him. He was looking at me. His beautiful eyes glossed by tears. The sunlight was peeking from the thick drapes covering my window. His dark hair contrasted with my light bedding. It was a beautiful sight. I wish I could see this every morning. He must stay...he has to... for me... I see him looking into my eyes. He's observing but he's not saying anything...

"I've missed you, and I am sorry..." He talks with deep sincerity, I believe him. I never gave him credit for the human he really was. The beautiful human he is... "I do not wish to speak of my actions, as I am already ashamed of it enough. I just, I want to be in your presence..." He was an odd shade of red, a shade I have never seen on him.

"I understand..." I took his hand in mine and pressed a small kiss to his fingertips. He smiled and rested his head on my chest. I never thought this amount of intimacy would exist with him. I feel like he thought the same thing because he seemed just as relieved as me... I wonder how long he has been watching over me. He may have despised the idea, but he was an angel. He was my angel. He watched over me and that is what they do. I felt him breathing, this time I focused on him. I wasn't going to let him leave me, but there isn't a reason I should take note of everything I can. He tenses. I hold him closer and I'm unaware of the free tears falling from my eyes; the shaky breaths that have seized my normal respiratory pattern. I am grateful to have him back, whether it is an illusion or not. Though, I do not believe it is. He's too real, too breathtaking, too real... I feel him back away and place his eyes on me. I stare at him back. I feel him close the space between us with a small peck on my lips. It's nothing special to others, but to us. To Sherlock and I... It's everything. It's him admitting his feelings, it's me accepting us. Not caring what people will say. It's us understanding each other. Such a small movement is so much to us. It's mutual. He traces a thumb over my lips. His finger is callused, but it's his. It's stained with chemicals but it's what I love about him; the fact that he is so different from others. Even with the smallest details like fingertips, they were a complete definition of him...of Sherlock.

"I will always be one step closer than you think I am." He whispered as he pressed his forehead against mine. I felt myself drift into sleep. It felt like being lifted as I slowly lost consciousness. He's back; I'll talk to him about it later, but now. I just want to be close to him, to feel his breath and remember the feeling. Remember the feeling of his hand with mine... As long as I am with him I will take note of all the things he does.

He's always one step closer and I'm always waiting when he's gone...

But he never left after that... He said he never would.

I will never stop believing in Sherlock Holmes.

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><p><strong>Reviews would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading!<strong>

_Jenna_


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